


And I'll Be There.

by justlikepagliaccis



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Revelations and realizations, Slight Hurt/Comfort, needy george is needy, paul just wants to sleep, touches of angst here and there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 12:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20115460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikepagliaccis/pseuds/justlikepagliaccis
Summary: It's something about the darkness. The cloaking effect it has, shrouding our dignity in a warm blanket of anonymity. Maybe it was the only reason Paul found George in his bed again and again.





	And I'll Be There.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternately named writing of  
mine from the one on Wattpad (I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend by Girl In Red.) The song fits perfectly with this ship and I was struck with the sudden inspiration to write this!   
Enjoy!   
– adeleine

Paul awoke in a sweat. The room was far too humid for it to be the middle of October. His bangs were pasted to his forehead and his t-shirt stuck uncomfortably to his back as he arched off the bed, trying to push the blankets off. For some reason, the blanket was heavier than normal. Paul's sleep-addled brain didn't think much of it as he tried to weakly push at the weight. It didn't budge. 

Deciding instead to squeeze out from underneath it, Paul braced himself on the mattress and yanked himself backward. It wasn't one of his best plans, as Paul's head slammed against the wooden headboard. 

"Fuck," he yelped. 

The weight immediately disappeared. 

"Paul? Are ye alright? I – shit, 'm sorry. I didn't realize that – it was cold and..." Paul immediately recognized George's voice. In the darkness, he could almost see the outline of the younger boy's head, the curve of his ears and the arch of his thick eyebrows that were raised in concern. 

"Not at the moment," he grumbled, rubbing tenderly at the back of his head where a lump would surely form soon. George hadn't moved an inch, seemingly frozen with nerves. Paul could feel the dip in the bed near his legs and the tension in the air. 

Paul wasn't particularly angry with George. This had happened several times in their youth, when he'd slept over at George's house and vice versa. At first, Paul had thought they had done it out of necessity. Neither one of them had wanted to sleep on the floor. But when, in Hamburg, George would sneak into his bed and cuddle up close, Paul knew the truth. He hadn't realized that it surpassed their tumultuous adolescence and into the fancy hotels, suites, and king-sized beds of America. Not that he was complaining. 

"It's chilly, yeah. Yer right." Paul said, despite the beads of sweat he wiped from his brow with the back of his hand. George still refused to move. He sighed and tried a different tactic. Scooting over towards the middle of the bed, Paul opened his arms. "C'mere Georgie." 

It didn't take much longer for George to make his way back up into Paul's embrace, albeit rather shyly. Paul stroked his hair soothingly, carding his fingers through the silky strands, taking time to gently work out any knots he found. The darkness gave them both the courage that they wouldn't have in the light. 

George wrapped his arms around Paul's waist, squeezing almost painfully. It said more than his words could express. Paul traced patterns on his back in response, the hand in George's hair trailing down to cradle his head. It was easy to forget about the world around them; about the managers and the tours and the albums. It had never really been about that. They were just two boys – friends – from Liverpool who made it big. 

Paul knew that with their new status, this sort of thing was far more dangerous than it could've been back home. Reporters were crawling around everywhere trying to get behind-the-scenes snapshots of all the world's idols, and they always chose the worst times to poke their cameras in windows. Fortunately, he kept the curtains to the room drawn tight. George craved private moments like these, as they were so rare when they returned to their separate houses and separate lives. Paul could only appear at his flat so many times without attracting unwanted attention. 

"Paul?" George murmured, his face nestled in the crook of Paul's neck. His breath was ticklish. 

"Yeah?" He replied softly. 

"I love ye. So much. A-An' I don't care who finds out." 

He frowned. Where did this come from? Paul was acutely aware of the parts of George – the ones deeply hidden away from view – that he had yet to see. Obviously there was something sensitive and hurt, craving more of Paul than their lives could allow. He just continued to tangle his fingers in George's hair, dragging his manicured fingernails against his scalp. 

"Love ye too. Nothin' I wouldn't do to be with ya. You know that." George definitely didn't know. That was okay though, because Paul was around enough to remind him of the fact. Whatever they were, Paul wasn't about to toss it up in favor of fame or money. They may have become famous, but if Paul had the choice, he'd be back with George in his family's sitting room singing snatches of songs back and forth; kids again. 

Nothing would bring those days back, that was true. It was clear George desperately wanted that attention again. Paul had been spending increasing amounts of time writing with John. The two of them had a separate bond. Unique from the one he had with George, however no more important. 

George kissed his clavicle, bringing Paul back to the here and now. He smiled tenderly down at his best mate, his... love. Paul loved him. Beyond the bounds of platonic friendship. As if to solidify the fact, Paul cupped George's face, tipping it up so he could place a kiss of his own right on those soft lips. Paul coaxed whines and moans from his mouth, grinning wider as he pulled away. George's eyes were glassy in the moonlight, looking dazed. 

"We 'ave a show tomorrow, love. Rest up, yeah? I'll still be 'ere." Paul said. 

There was another squeeze around his waist and Paul's heart broke. This was how it had to be for the rest of their lifetimes. Hiding in dark hotel rooms and sneaking kisses behind closed doors once a week every other week. He would try his hardest to make it better for George, that was for sure. Even if they had to creep around after hours just to embrace each other. 

And when the morning came, George awoke to Paul – as promised. The look of pure, unbridled happiness in his eyes made it all the more worth it. From then on, Paul made sure that he could wake up with George in his arms as much as possible. 

FIN.


End file.
